By Jo Cooper Bruce walked up the big steps to the bank. Just before he touched the door, it opened by itself. On one desk he read :"New Accounts." I'm new here, he thought. Maybe I should go there. "May I help you?" the lady behind the desk asked him. "I think so." Bruce said, digging into his pocket and bringing out five folded $1 bills. "I'd like to put this in the bank." "Fine!" "I'm eight. Is that old enough?" "If you can sign your name in cursive, not printing, you can start and account today. If you can just print your name, you can still have an account, but it must also have the name of one of your parents on it." "I can write my name. We just learned how to |
do it in school this year."
The lady asked some other questions and wrote the answers on a card. Bruce signed his name on the card, too. Then the lady took his money
and returned with a blue book inside a plastic case. Bruce hurried home. His friend Tommy was riding his bike. "Look," Bruce called, "I have my own bank account." "Wow!" Tommy said. "Do you think I could have one, too?" "Let's count the money in your piggy bank," Bruce said. "You need at least $5 to open an account." "I have lots of pennies and some dimes," Tommy said. The boys carefully counted the change. "Why don't you just keep it at home in your own bank?" Tommy Asked. "Because when I put it in the bank my money earns interest. By the end of one year, my $5 will have grown to more than $5.25." Gee, that's great!" Tommy said. "Tomorrow I'll take my money to the bank, too." Illustrated by Anthony Rao |
by Ralph S. Cooper, 12-22-07 |
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